


Fall Into Routine

by SlimeQueen



Category: SHINee
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, this is hideously cute okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/pseuds/SlimeQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho always comes an hour after Jinki calls lights out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall Into Routine

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not steal or post my work on any other website without my permission. Thank you!

Minho always comes an hour after Jinki calls lights out. Never a minute earlier.

Taemin waits up for him. Minho pads through the silent dorm, the dull  _thud_ of his bare feet, the only sound audible over the  _thump thump thump_ of his heart. Taemin never closes the door fully, letting a thin crack of light spill from the opening.

Minho always knocks, anyways.

It’s practically routine now. They’ve been doing this since their trainee days, although it was more shy smiles and trembling hands, hot breath against each other’s necks, back then.

Taemin sits on the bed clad in a shirt that’s too big to be his, idly scrolling through his phone, foot jiggling with anticipation. As soon as Minho knocks, he’s glancing up, smile blooming across full lips.

Minho is the cautious one, always careful to lock the door behind him as he slinks inside, clad only in briefs and a cotton tee, sinking down onto the bed beside Taemin.

Taemin cups his face with gentle hands, hooded eyes sweeping over him slowly until they meet his. Minho smiles then, and it’s not his stage smile, it’s the one he reserves for Taemin , small and soft, lips stretching to reveal just a hint of white teeth.

“I missed you at practice today,” He mumbles, and Taemin makes a noncommittal noise and strokes his cheek with a slender thumb.

“The interview was boring,” he shrugs, and leans forward to brush his lips against the same place where his hand had been, “I’d much rather have been in the studio.”

Minho feels his cheekbone tingle when Taemin presses his warm mouth to it and he tilts his face to kiss him properly. He licks into Minho’s mouth easily, hand tightening on the front of his shirt.

“Do you wanna do me?” Taemin asks suddenly.

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Actually I don’t think I should. We have dance stuff tomorrow and if you’re not walking perfectly, we’re fucked."

Taemin pouts but shrugs. “Alright, I guess. There’s tons of other things we can do.” At that, he smirks slyly and pushes firmly at Minho’s chest until he’s laying back on his forearms.

“What kinds of things?” Minho asks and looks at him with cool amused eyes as Taemin sits on his waist and starts rocking his hips in answer, lip tilted up into a half-smirk.

“I missed you,” Minho says.

“I missed your dick more.” Taemin grits out, body moving in waves against him.

“I missed your mouth more,” Minho counters, fingers tightening on Taemin’s hips. The cotton fabric of his shirt is starting to bunch up around his chest to reveal the smooth plane of his stomach, so Minho slides a hand over the heated skin, up to thumb at Taemin’s stiff nipples until he’s gasping and smacking his hand away.

Taemin surges up to mouth at the sharp line of his jaw, sucking bruises systematically down his neck to his collarbones, hips moving relentlessly against his thigh.

“If you’re not gonna put it in then can you at least use your fingers?” Taemin sounds impatient, voice an octave higher than normal.

Minho smiles and skitters his fingers down the line of Taemin’s back to his ass, sliding a hand down past the waistband of his shorts. “Hand me the lube?”

Taemin keeps his lubricant at the bottom of his underwear drawer under a bright red pair of briefs he swears he’s never worn. Minho knows because Taemin being the lazy ass he is, Minho’s usually the one who puts it back after they’re done.

Taemin jumps up to go get it on unsteady legs, rushing back as soon as he has it. Minho reaches out and grabs it from him, flipping it open easily and pushing his fingers inside.

Taemin’s back on his lap in an instant, ass jutting out, grinding slowly against the muscle of Minho’s thigh.

“Is this okay?” Minho asks, hand slipping back into the shorts. Taemin nods and presses a kiss to his lips, tugging it into his mouth and sucking before finally letting go. It comes away red, swollen, and shiny.

“Press it- fuck, press it like  _that,_ ” Taemin hisses, clothed cock pressing hard against Minho’s. He angles their hips together and grinds, low obscene noises slipping out of his mouth as he does.

“H-haven’t seen you in so long,” he pants quietly against Minho’s mouth.

“We’re together every day,” Minho reminds gently, but he’s already shaking his head.

“That’s not the same as this,” Taemin reminds, pouting slightly. It’s true, for the past couple weeks they’ve both been busy, Taemin with his solo work and Minho with his acting, but they’ve always made do and that’s what they’ve been doing this time around. Deep down, though, Minho knows that no amount of hushed phone sex compares at all to Taemin actually in front of him, body flush against his.

Taemin straddles his waist, pushing down when he feels Minho’s hand press against his ass inside the loose material of his shorts.

“Yeah?” Minho cautions, heavy lidded eyes searching Taemin’s face. The maknae nods and parts his legs open.

Minho presses a finger against him, circling the rim, smearing cool lubricant over him until Taemin makes an impatient noise and he pushes in past the tight ring. Taemin arches his back to press up into him, humming softly into the junction of his neck.

“More,” Taemin mumbles, moving steadily against him. “Do another one.”

As soon as Minho’s squeezing another finger into him, Taemin whines loudly and Minho has to kiss him quickly to stop the sound.

“Are you insane? You’re going to wake everyone!” Minho whispers, free hand skittering nervously down the curve of Taemin’s back. “Jonghyun’s room is next door!”

Taemin flushes in embarrassment, pressing his head into the side of Minho’s neck. “Sorry,” he says quietly, “But ugh, _Minho-hyung_ ,” his voice goes breathy at the end and he thrusts against Minho’s thigh again.

At the word ‘hyung’ Minho’s dick twitches but he ignores it in favor of crooking the fingers inside Taemin, rubbing against his sensitive inner walls, mouthing bruises around Taemin’s neck. Everything goes hypersensitive as Taemin rubs against him  _just so_ , and Minho feels the spikes of arousal curl low in his belly.

Minho feels his own hips twitch at the noise Taemin makes at that, whimpering into his ear helplessly as he curls his body in around Minho’s. “Hyung  _please_ ,” he cries, swollen mouth falling open.

“Shh, hold on,” Minho hushes, pulling him closer with the hand that’s not inside him. He rubs at Taemin’s back, feeling the younger go pliant on top of him.

Minho leans back against the pillows until Taemin lays across his body, lining up their hips.

“Do you want another finger?” Taemin nods quickly, eyes lidded and lips parted as he takes quick deep breaths.

Minho presses a third finger into him, suppressing a smile when Taemin moans something that sounds like “ _holy shit_ ”. He angles his fingers and thrusts them through the way Taemin clenches around them until Taemin’s making a broken sound and starts practically riding his hand, cock rubbing almost painfully sensitively against Minho’s.

“Was that it? Did I find it?” Minho asks, and Taemin nods, eyes glazing over.

“W-weeks, I’ve been waiting fucking  _weeks,_ ” Taemin gasps, then there’s another whine and Minho feels a wet splatter seeping through the thin material of his shirt. Minho finger fucks him through it, hand moving slowly through the clench of his ass. Then he slides out and Taemin’s grabbing his wrist as soon as he catches his breath and pinning it above his head on a pillow.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Taemin demands, slinking a hand down to grip Minho’s cock through his briefs. He slides his hand inside and runs petite fingers up the underside of his erection.

“I know,” Minho gasps, “I know, I’m sorry.” His body arches up against Taemin, hips working quickly, the feeling spreading through his lower stomach until it almost aches. Taemin drags the briefs down his muscular legs and off, letting them fall to the floor and finally wraps his hands around Minho properly and starts jacking him off with quick rhythmic flicks of his wrist.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Taemin whines softly into his ear, and then Minho’s coming with a moan, riding out the pulses in Taemin’s hand. He falls back against the bed, chest heaving. Taemin lays down half on top of him, licking cum off his fingers. Usually Minho would complain and make him wash his hands, but he hasn’t seen Taemin like this, post-coital, in so long and he can’t bring himself to complain.

“Change your pants before you sleep.” He yawns, running his clean hand through Taemin’s fluffy hair.

“Wash your hand.” Taemin mumbles sleepily, breath warm over his neck.

Minho reaches a long arm towards the floor and grabs his previously discarded underwear and uses it to wipe the majority of lube from his hand, then throws it back.

“Clean enough,” he slurs.

“You’re disgusting.” Taemin murmurs and he sounds just as tired as Minho.

“At least I wiped mine off.” He manages.

“I ate yours. That’s dedication,” Taemin counters and Minho can’t find the energy to respond so he holds Taemin closer and sighs.

This is routine too. Friendly banter right after mutual orgasms. They fall into pattern with each other so quickly even in their hectic lives, and honestly, Minho wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://eatjinsass.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/whinytaeyong) come hmu


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